The Elusiveness of Self-Discovery, or "The Ocean of Life"

Next to the discovery of God, the second most important aspect of religion is self-discovery. "Who am I?", is the fundamental question. Not everyone struggles with this question. Some seem to have a very natural sense of who they are. Others never ask the question, for in a sense they aren't really a 'self' at all. They are many selves, with no real consistency of character. They are determined by their immediate experiences. They are, whoever those around them say they are for the moment. For these people, life is a series of storms on choppy seas, and they are a boat without a rudder. They are pushed along by the winds and the waves, with no real direction, and no real destination they are seeking out. Soren Kirekegaard called this the 'aesthetic sphere of life'. We all live in it at times, even when we are more self-aware than the average. But there are some who never or almost never leave it. It is the way most of the world gets by.

However, a good number of people eventually tire of the aimlessness. They become aware through some channel that a real journey can be sought. And so they seek the oar by which they can row themselves in a given direction. They choose some vision of who they are or who they want to be. A path is chosen, and a life created. This is moving past the chaos of mere survival and immediate pleasure and to a picture of one's life as something concrete. Kierkegaard called this the 'ethical' sphere. There are multiple difficulties at this stage of life. For one, almost everyone begins out on the ocean and therefore without land in sight. They have to choose a direction, but they do not know for sure where that direction will take them. There is no self-discovery without some sort of risk or venture. You realize the chance you take when you start to form up your chaotic existence, when you start to mold your soul into something you can recognize. For what you create may not be very good, or work very well in the world. The life you create may be more painful and worse than the chaotic existence of which you were formerly blissfully unaware.

Of course changing course is always a possibility. Most people do it at some point in life. They realize that who they are is not who they REALLY are. The life they are creating does not satisfy. Land, or the destination of one's life rather, has come into view. And that destination, that rock you are rowing too, does not look like the place you thought you were going. In some ways, this kind of crisis can be worse than the earlier one. For at least out on the ocean, realizing a path might be chosen, there is this sense of limitless possibilities. Yes anything can happen, and that could be very bad indeed. But also, anything can happen, and that could be very good too! Once the destination is in sight (even if one has realized that the destination can never be actually reached), the structure or form of life one has chosen looses it's mystery, and once that mystery is gone, some of the hopefulness is gone. One may be satisfied when the shore is seen, but if one is not satisfied, the journey loses it's luster.

And rowing back out into the open waters means starting all over again. It isn't some random thing, either. The path one has chosen is not without signs along the way. There are buoys and dinghy's that let one know which way one is going, and what might lie ahead. Once the full picture is in view, you just might bang yourself over the head over your own stupidity. Going back the way you came is not an option, a whole new path must be forged. That is a mighty hard thing to do, especially after you've travelled so far. In many ways the very 'self' you sought must be either killed, or must be recognized to have always been a dead one. The person you were self-creating wasn't who you really were. What a waste of time and effort! Anger, frustration, and doubt all begin to set in. Many decide to let go of the oars and get tossed around on the ocean again, at least for a while. Or they change directions too often. They never seem satisfied with any direction. And this constant changing of direction is essentially the same as the place one started. One is never really a 'self' and/or never really knows ones 'self'. Worse yet, a lot of energy is expended on the various twists and turns. So who am I, really? What is this all about?

Well let me tell you who I am. I am a person who doesn't know who they are, but is fully known by God. I put my trust not in my self-knowledge, but in my knowledge of God Himself. It is God who knows. I do not. I am okay with that. I hear a voice out on the water and I follow it, not knowing where it will lead. I have my hands on the oars, but the destination is not my own. I take this to be the point of Psalm 139. The Psalmist has chosen to quit the whole "who am I" fight and to just trust in God's knowledge of him. The self is as mysterious and unknowable as the universe. It is as complex and as expansive, I think, as well. I have experienced my own soul and it is a world come alive, strange and beyond words. I cannot possibly grasp such a mystery. I leave it in the hands of God. I have my hands on my own oars. My self is my own. But as to what it's form or function, as to my destination, I know not except that trusting that God is good, I can trust that He is taking me somewhere good as well. This is the end of my struggle, the end of my journey. It is what Kierkegaard called the 'religious sphere of life'. It is not objectively 'better' than the ethical sphere. It is not for the strong, but for the weak. I cannot bare the burden of my journey any longer. I cannot go it alone. Accepting this unknowability, I paradoxically find myself. I find that place that sages and prophets speak of. It is only by embracing the paradox that peace can be found, for me. For you, it may be the long road to that strange Island, or even being tossed around by the waves. You do whatever you think is best. But as for me and my boat, we will follow the Lord.